


Keep Playing Along

by orphan_account, russianpotatofarm



Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Bad Parenting, Blatantly Pretending Sei Isn't Real, Cliche As All Fuck, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Kind Of Noiao, M/M, Mink as a Bad Guy, Not Underage, Sexual Abuse, Underage If You Squint, Unofficial Adoption, Vague Attempts at Understanding the Adoption System, i can't write fluff for shit, if i capitalize it does it make it seem official, neon trees references up the ass, not really - Freeform, thats a widely used tag wow
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-02
Updated: 2014-07-02
Packaged: 2018-02-07 03:18:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1883103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account, https://archiveofourown.org/users/russianpotatofarm/pseuds/russianpotatofarm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mizuki/Blue. I can't think of a reasonable explanation for this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Mizuki is fairly sure that taking Blue into his apartment is a kind of stupid decision and not the philanthropic one he's interpreting it as, but he's just doing it before he can actually let that sink in.

When he shows up at Aoba's house, arriving in the pickup he borrowed to carry the teenager's stuff back, he's not really sure what he's expecting. He's heard very little from Aoba and Koujaku about Blue's most recent escapade, only that he'd shown up at Aoba's with a wild look in his eyes and asked for sanctuary that Aoba had been unable to deny. After all, Aoba had a spare couch, and Blue had been gone so long that any sight of him was a good one. From Aoba's semi-frantic report, and Koujaku's random interjections with more logical explanations, Blue had just rung the doorbell and calmly asked to stay the night, before breaking down into tears and falling asleep on the bathroom floor. Aoba, being the maternal figure he was, had freaked out and been barely able to call Koujaku for help, who in turn called Mizuki and Noiz, the latter who had been sleeping off another pizza marathon. By default, Mizuki was now standing in Aoba's living room, calmly waiting while Aoba held his head in his hands and Koujaku yelled at Blue from the other room to “wake up, damnit,” or he'd “force-feed you tomato smoothies until you choke on them.”

To be honest, Mizuki had been kind of entertained by the mayhem.

Eventually, Koujaku emerges from the bathroom, trailing an incredibly pissy-looking teenager who resembles Aoba startlingly. He appears to be much younger than him, though, about sixteen to Aoba's twenty-three. They've got the same blue hair (so that's where the name came from, Mizuki thinks), even if Blue's is cut in a shaggy, floppy mess, and even their eyes and facial features match. Blue, however, is shorter, and he's got more muscle than Aoba. His hands are cut up and bruised, too, and Mizuki frowns at the sight. He only knows one real way a person's hands would get that kind of injured, and someone that young shouldn't be getting into situations those situations.

Upon entering the room, Blue immediately tenses, staring at Mizuki like he lit Blue's cat on fire, and Mizuki can almost see his hackles raise. The boy's eyes narrow, the way Aoba's do when he's disappointed with someone, but this is kind of a weird perversion of that. Aoba's face is more soft edges, and when he glares at anyone it's not half as threatening as it should be. Blue's remix is made much more harsh by the hunger-sharp angles of his face, and not any better when he tilts his chin up mockingly.

Yeah, he can already tell Blue hates him, but that's the desired effect.

The younger Seragaki has always been a wild card. He's intimidating, for someone so young, and he likes that. He changes himself easily to gain whatever he wants, like a chameleon, and it's hard for even Aoba to predict what he's going to do next. Blue's kind of maniacal, a teenage Jekyll and Hyde. He'd never gotten along well with the parents he and Aoba shared, seeming to enjoy the drama he caused so very often. Blue'd gotten into street fighting when he was still living at home, which was pretty impressive for a fourteen-year-old. Normally, Mizuki would have immediately discredited someone that age as immature and weak and making empty threats, but while Blue definitely wasn't a fine role model, he certainly wasn't the last two. Mizuki had actually gotten a pretty nice punch from him before he left. Being punched by anyone doesn't do wonders for a twenty-year-old's dignity, much less getting punched by someone six years younger than them.

Blue had left in a way incredibly fitting of him: fast, dramatic, and pretty damn scary. Like now, he'd only heard the story secondhand from an incredibly panicky and confused Aoba, but he'd helped him look for the escapee until they were about to pass out on the street. That night hadn't been fun for anyone, filled with nerves and bad coffee as they tried to find a kid who definitely didn't want to be found.

They'd always known why Blue left. He was pissed at the world, and being stuck in school and parentless wasn't exactly conditions for even the most easygoing kid. Blue had spent about two months getting in fights at school before Aoba had found out and reported it to their grandma and Blue's teachers.. Even at twenty, Aoba was still overbearing and protective of his younger brother to the end. Blue had actually been fairly docile for the rest of the year, but on his fifteenth birthday- and of course Blue would pick a date like that- Aoba had woken up a little after midnight to find Blue's bedroom empty of Blue himself and a few choice belongings. Of course, seeing as it ran in the family to be over-reactive and freaky, a firm layer of panic had settled over everyone. If Mizuki remembered correctly, Koujaku had actually been at some girl's house at the time, and no one had stopped to wonder what he was doing at a girl's place at 1 AM until afterward, when it was so far away that asking after his sex life would have been a little frowned upon.

That would be frowned upon normally, now that he thought about it. Probably. Koujaku had always been fond of over-sharing.

Blue had been fifteen then, making him seventeen now. Well, that wasn't so bad. A year younger, and he would have been unbearably obnoxious. Actually, knowing Blue, he'd be obnoxious anyway.

Aoba glances at Mizuki. “So?”

“So what?” He can easily interpret Aoba's question, even if it was only one word- he wants him to announce whether he's decided to take the kid or not. But even if it's kind of bitchy, Mizuki objects to the idea that he'd decide he's going back on a promise, and he feels like that entitles him to annoy Aoba a little.

Aoba looks at Koujaku hopelessly (probably for moral support) before turning back to Mizuki. “Are you still okay with this? He's not a great companion.”

Mizuki shrugs. “I kind of guessed that. I knew him before, and passing out in someone's bathroom isn't exactly being a great guest.”

“Asshole,” Blue comments.

“Hey, are you denying that it's rude to fall asleep on a toilet?”

Blue cocks his head, a self-assured and haughty action that a younger version of him wouldn't have had the confidence to make. “No, but it wasn't even a toilet. It was just the floor.”

“Oh, right.” Mizuki dips his head slightly. “Sorry. Of course it was the floor. That's much more sane.”

“Yeah, it kinda is. How would I even balance on the toilet?”

“You're a creative guy.”

“Okay,” Aoba interrupts. “I think this is counterproductive.”

He's right, of course, but everyone's just getting into the bickering.

“Big word,” Blue notes.

“Yeah, because he went to school. Unlike you,” Koujaku adds, and falls silent at the sharp look Aoba sends him.

Mizuki almost laughs. Aoba's got Koujaku wrapped around his finger, and he hasn't even noticed.

Blue, however, doesn't seem amused with anything that's going on.

He just raises his eyebrows, looks over at Aoba. “Am I going with him?” he demands, waving a hand in Mizuki's general direction.

Aoba, in turn, looks at Mizuki for confirmation, and he nods. “I said I was going to take him, didn't I? And I've got a spare bedroom. None of you guys do.”

“Doesn't Noiz?” Aoba asks, but Koujaku's expression darkens.

“I don't trust him around children,” he says stiffly.

Oh, right. For a moment he almost forgot about the epic rivalry those two hold, for reasons completely unknown to anyone besides them.

“You wouldn't trust him around a pile of rocks, Koujaku. Your opinion's a little biased,” Mizuki reminds him.

Aoba frowns a little, but he says, “You're both right,” and then doesn't continue.

Mizuki and Koujaku, who are used to this, just wait. Aoba's never been the best with organizing his thoughts, and he wouldn't leave a sentence there. Mizuki's not sure why Blue doesn't say anything sarcastic in the opening, though. He's been gone for two years. He's not going to understand his brother's conversational habits, much less wait patiently for them.

“Noiz is probably one of the worst people to have a kid in his house, but he's not nearly as bad as you're making him out to be, Koujaku. I only don't want him to be rooming with Blue because he's got weird dietary habits and he's hard to get in contact with.”

Mizuki nods. “I second that logic. Also, if you're banging him, that could be a problematic living situation for your brother.”

Aoba flushes, Koujaku looks like he's about to declare war, and Blue looks up in interest.

Whoops. He'd kind of forgotten about Blue's presence.

“Sorry, I thought everyone knew about that,” he says quickly, and he's being honest. Mizuki actually isn't sure why Koujaku wasn't informed, until he remembers that one Christmas, he'd gotten drunk and launched into an informative rant about why Noiz was the worst possible example of a human to grace Koujaku's existence and Aoba was too good for the bastard.

Again. Very fond of over-sharing.

Aoba, who is still the kind of red you usually only find as a nail polish color, shakes his head. “I did too,” he says lamely, looking at Mizuki with a plea for help painfully visible in his eyes.

Koujaku opens his mouth, but Mizuki thinks maybe it's best to let them sort that out later when Aoba's brother isn't hanging on to every word they say. “Anyway,” Mizuki cuts in. “Yeah. I'm down with bringing him home. He can't be that hard to take care of, right?”

“You'd be surprised,” Aoba mutters.

Mizuki shrugs. “I can deal.”

Koujaku, thankfully, doesn't offer any protest, but he does still look like he's wondering where he can purchase some torture weapons and dump a body later. The only hitch is the plan is that Mizuki doubts Aoba would like that plan, and Aoba's opinion is just the slightest bit more important to Koujaku than Noiz's imminent death.

Poor Koujaku.

Mizuki scans the room, looking for something that might belong to Blue. “Does he have any stuff?”

“I'm right here,” Blue reminds them.

“Yeah, we know. Kind of hard to forget,” Mizuki points out, and Blue frowns in what looks like a mixture of confusion and pride, like he can't tell if it was a compliment or not.

Mizuki falls silent for a moment, watching Blue watch him, and he thinks it might theoretically have seemed romantic if this wasn't a seventeen-year-old who has punched him before and, for all he knows, thinks Mizuki's good for nothing but offering him a place to live.

Also, he's one of his best friends' brother, so there's that.

The friend in question clears his throat, and Mizuki looks across the room at him.

“He doesn't really have anything, but there are some clothes that might fit him,” Aoba suggests. “I don't know. It's been two years. He's probably grown.”

Again, Blue makes his half-pissed, half-proud face at the ground.

“Sounds good,” Mizuki says. “He's probably going to need more clothes, though.”

Aoba nods, staring into space. “I can pay for it, if you want.”

Mizuki shakes his head. “I make more than any of you. I can probably handle it.” While being a tattoo artist is generally frowned upon and makes it hard to discuss careers with anyone without being either attacked with questions or immediately dismissed as a bad person, there's a good salary.

Aoba smiles at him. “Thanks, Mizuki,” he says, and Koujaku nods in agreement.

Blue glances at Aoba. “So I'm just going with him, right away?”

Aoba's smile fades, and he answers, “Yeah. I don't really have anywhere for you to sleep here, and Grandma moved away. So,” he shrugs helplessly, “Mizuki's the best option.”

When their grandma is mentioned, Blue's expression darkens. The Seragaki parents and the eldest brother died when Aoba was fifteen, and it messed the rest of the family up pretty badly. It hadn't been anyone's fault- no one can predict a car crash, after all- but no one had really managed to deal with it in a healthy way. Aoba, as far as Mizuki could tell, had gone into parental mode, trying to replace the ones they'd lost, and began prioritizing living conditions and food above his and Blue's psychological health. Mizuki didn't blame him. From what he'd seen, that kind of crushing sadness was impossible to deal with even when you when you were certain of where you were waking up tomorrow. He'd made good choices, except that Aoba had never really sought out any sort of coping mechanism or counseling for either of them. After the initial shock and flurry of change was over, Aoba carried on ignoring the deaths as best as he could.

Blue, on the other hand, went kind of crazy. He had the stereotypical reaction for someone so young and already defiant, and started lashing out at school. For a while, that went unpunished. After a tragedy like that, you can pretty much get away with murder and people will still send you sympathy cards and casseroles. You aren't really treated like a person when you're coping with disaster, more like something weak to be protected under any conditions. Blue, however, kept stretching that privilege out for months after the accident, and eventually it had become fairly apparent what he was doing. He had actually been put into counseling, which Mizuki had been happy about. Finally, they were doing something to help the two of them out.

The counselor's plan for dealing with Blue's incorrigible and frequently activated rage mode was described to Aoba and his grandma, and later relayed to Mizuki and Koujaku as, was

1\. Play with Play-Doh.

2\. Talk about home life.

3\. Get told to count to ten every time he got angry.

4\. Learn to become a functioning member of society with friends and shit (Mizuki wasn’t clear on the specifics of this stage)

From what Mizuki observed, because it was pretty damn obvious it wasn't working, it was more like

1\. Mix the Play-Doh colors.

2\. Get questioned about home life until he started crying or shut down.

3\. Get taught flawed coping mechanisms.

4\. Hulk out every time he was even slightly inconvenienced.

The street fighting actually kind of made sense, once they remembered how shitty the advice had been. Blue hadn't seemed to mind, but that was only because the sessions were the exact same time as his math class.

Lasting five years with that kind of bullshit was pretty impressive, really. Blue had made it a long time without murdering anyone or doing drugs to relieve any anger. But five years later, he snapped, and the rest is history that no one really talks about unless they're drunk and emotional.

So Mizuki understands. He doesn't blame Blue for what he did. He just wishes Aoba hadn't beat himself up over it so much, and that they'd found a way for Blue to funnel his energy into something productive. He wishes that they'd filed a missing persons report sooner, instead of two days later when it was clear Blue wasn't going to be found. He wishes no one had crashed the car in the first place, because Mizuki's watched one of his closest friends fall apart and super-glue himself back together, and he doubts Blue coming back is going to be any help to the healing process.

And he understands that he needs to get Blue away as fast as possible, because Aoba may need to work out his issues someday, but that day is not a day when a living, breathing reminder of how wrecked their lives are is floating around and needs to be fed and clothed and housed and a million other things, and even if Mizuki needs to figure out if Blue's going back to school or if they've told his grandma or if he's as physically sick as Mizuki already knows he is mentally, it's going to fall to shit if they try to sit down and work out almost eight years of emotional constipation in one night.

So he hoists the backpack Aoba gives him, full of clothes that Blue probably isn't going to want to wear, and walks outside, hoping that Blue doesn't hate him as much as he did when he hit him in the jaw three years ago.

He doesn't have high hopes.

The car ride home is full of uncomfortable silence and Mizuki wishing he hadn't borrowed a truck from someone who apparently smokes enough to give everyone in Rhode Island lung cancer.

Blue has claimed the passenger seat, and Mizuki thinks that's a good thing. At least Blue doesn't mind his presence, because Blue is certainly not one to spare his feelings, and if he had a problem with Mizuki he wouldn't even consider riding next to him. Blue is a picky, bitchy bastard, and he openly hates anything that even dares to screw with him, but for some reason Mizuki desires his approval.

It's kind of embarrassing. Blue's much younger than him, and he definitely shouldn't care. Mizuki is a well-respected artist. He has his own apartment, with a spare bedroom. He is his own man. And he should not be slightly pleased that a teenager tolerates his presence.

Oh, right. He is, in fact, a teenager, and he's going to need to finish high school if he ever wants to accomplish anything. That's going to be fun to work out. Blue left during his second year, and while he can probably get his GED without actually going back to school, Mizuki knows basically nothing about how that would work. Maybe they can get a tutor or something. Maybe you can do it online. Either way, he's going to be fill

Which reminds him.

“When's your birthday?” Mizuki asks.

Blue doesn't look at him at first, but a couple seconds later glances over.

Mizuki feels like he should, too, but he also feels like he has an obligation to not crash the car when he's just learning to be a responsible adult and proving he can take care of minors. That, and he can't imagine what kind of trouble he'd be in if another one of Aoba's family members got in an accident.

“Why do you want to know?” Blue returns cryptically.

“Because you're jailbait and I want to know how fast I can get in your pants,” Mizuki deadpans, and then backtracks when he realizes that's not the best icebreaker. “Chill. I just realized I'm probably going to be filling out a crapton of forms in the near future, and they're going to ask for your birth date. Nothing that creepy. I'm a nice person. Or so I'm told.”

He realizes he's rambling, and falls silent, berating himself for being so easily flustered when Blue's just sitting there silently.

Blue nods, like he finds that answer worthy. “Okay. Then it's December 11th.”

Mizuki is almost surprised by the ease with which he got the answer, and he smiles slightly, still happy Blue is working with him. “So you are seventeen, right?”

Blue considers. “Yeah, it's like, August. So. Seventeen.”

Mizuki frowns, risking another look at him. “No, it's September. Where have you been?”

Blue's gaze flicks away from him at that, refocusing at some distant point outside the car, and Mizuki realizes too late that that was a bad question.

“Hey, I didn't mean it literally,” he says, but Blue just narrows his eyes again and tilts his head up.

“You don't have to tell anyone,” Mizuki tacks on.

But that's kind of a good question, at this point. Where has Blue been? In two years, he could have gone pretty much anywhere, done anything. It's stupid and naive to assume he hasn't. This kid who had never had any sort of freedom beyond picking his school lunch was suddenly alone, with no rules except the ones he gave himself, and of course he wouldn't set any. Mizuki doesn't know why he assumed the best. Blue's probably even more screwed up now than he was before he left.

He doesn't know if they're going to be able to fix or contain him this time, but he is hoping.

Blue's pretty best-case scenario so far, though. He's followed every direction or even suggestion Mizuki's given him to the letter, and if he's a little quiet, so what? It's easier to deal with than the belligerent teenager from two years ago, and if he's going to be living with Mizuki, that's a godsend. He's not going to be there all the time, unless he takes Blue to work with him, which could be disastrous if he's even close to how he was before he left. It'd be easier if Blue went back to school, but Mizuki understands how hard that can be, and he doubts that shoving him back into the same environment he ran away from is a good idea when he's just come back.

Blue's going to be fragile, and Mizuki isn't sure if he's going to be able to deal with it properly, but at least it's one step up from an orphanage.

He thinks he should maybe figure out the living arrangements, too.

“So, I've got a spare bedroom at my apartment,” Mizuki starts, and Blue nods.

“I was there. When you guys were talking about it. I heard a lot of interesting shit, actually,” he says, smiling widely in a way that's more disconcerting than anything else. He stops staring out the window, looking over at Mizuki for what he guesses would be either confirmation or a response.

Taken aback by the sudden switch in disposition, Mizuki is a little too startled to respond properly. “Uh, yeah. That you did,” he agrees, using the rear-view mirror to direct his best what-the-hell look at Blue.

Blue doesn't seem to notice. “I'm kind of impressed he got laid,” he muses. “Back when I was here, he didn't really do much. Mostly just freak out about finances and crap.”

Mizuki probably shouldn't be taking this that personally. He isn't even sure how close he and Aoba are. Their friendship has always teetered on the edge of casual and close, and it's always confused him, but he's kind of offended on Aoba's behalf.

“Yeah, 'cause he was trying to keep you guys afloat,” Mizuki points out. “You were fifteen. You couldn't get a job, but he did, and he spent all his free time working.”

Blue tilts his head again, and through the slight fog of confusion Mizuki's trying to work in, he wonders if that's actually helping Blue think or it's just a thing he does.

“Okay, but didn't we inherit a bunch of money?” Blue asks. “That would have been fine.”

“Yeah, for a while,” Mizuki retorts. “Maybe a year, two if he spread it out really well. But he didn't. There were funerals to pay for, and he didn't know where you guys were going to live, and he didn't have time to plan out everything.” He pauses. “Under the conditions, he did really well.”

“Yeah, but he wasn't ever at home. If he was, I didn't talk to him that much. Actually, I didn't talk to anyone that much, so. Whatever.” He shrugs, flicking the hair out of his eyes, and Mizuki isn't sure if he did that because it looked cool or because he actually couldn't see well. Either seems very possible.

“He wasn't ever at home because he was trying to keep himself employed, and he didn't even have Sei to help him out with it. He didn't have anyone. He was a little busy trying to put food on the table, and I know it seems like your problems were important, but he didn't have time.” Mizuki knows that's not a good way of phrasing it, but putting it harshly seems to be the only way Blue's going to understand.

“He didn't have time for anything,” Blue mutters.

“Yeah, exactly,” Mizuki says, and Blue blinks like he hadn't been expecting that answer.

This Blue hasn't been confused very much in the past twenty minutes Mizuki has known him. He is self-assured and cocky, presenting himself in whatever way will make him seem most impressive, teetering on the edge of threatening and young. His stability is in the shield he made of his personality, and he doesn't have that right now, and Mizuki shouldn't take advantage of that but he is.

He plows on.

“He was trying to take care of you. His priorities were a little different than normal. Have you heard of Maslow?” Blue shakes his head, the slight wrinkle between his eyebrows deepening, and Mizuki just continues. “Anyway, he wanted to, but he didn't really have your feelings high up on his list. They got shifted down way further when he realized you didn't have enough food every day, and that became the most important. So, yeah, he didn't care, but not because he was being rude. It's the opposite.”

Blue still looks a little dazed, but he nods.

“I'm sorry,” he says softly, and Mizuki can see the quiet coming back.

“Hey, it's okay. You just didn't understand,” Mizuki assures him, and Blue nods again.

They don't talk for the rest of the drive.

Blue is almost asleep by the time they pull up outside Mizuki's apartment, curled sideways in a fetal position. His head is pillowed on one arm, the other pulled around himself like he's trying to press himself together. His hair is shoved up awkwardly against the seat in a vaguely mohawk-y style, mouth half open, breath fogging up the window next to him.

For someone so random and psychotic, he's kind of adorable.

Mizuki's fairly sure that Blue is underweight. Even when he had proper nutrition every day, he'd been a little skinny, and after being who knows where for two years he's definitely not going to have been eating healthily. However, he's still kind of a bitch to carry, and that's without all his stuff slung across Mizuki's shoulder. Thankfully, it's only a backpack with some clothes and maybe a book or two in it, because Mizuki probably would have dropped something or someone in the elevator while he fumbled wildly for his floor's button.

As he stands in the elevator, Blue's uncharacteristically gentle breathing fluttering against his neck, he realizes this is probably going to be a lot harder than he thought it would be. When Aoba called him, he'd sounded so panicked that Mizuki's only thought was damage control; getting Blue away, calming Aoba down, sorting out living conditions. He hadn't factored in a world of psychological issues and mayhem that he was absolutely not trained to deal with. Blue needed a therapist, maybe a foster home if they could find one, not a twentysomething artist who survived mostly on pizza left over from joint binges with Noiz and the occasional Burger King. If he hadn't been so close to eighteen, getting Blue a foster family would be the first priority, but Mizuki knew the adoption system and Blue would be of age and gone again by the time he got anywhere close to a social worker.

Mizuki is kind of his best chance, but Blue is absolutely not going to be beneficial for Mizuki.

For a moment, he considers dumping Blue on someone else. Noiz has money, at least, but God knows he has a metric shit ton of his own issues to work through and it's pretty doubtful that he actually knows how to take care of kids, anyway. Koujaku is a nice enough guy, but he hates Blue almost as much as he hates Noiz, and they still don't know what he does when he's not around. Clear is basically a kid, anyway, and is absolutely the worst person to give a troubled teenager to.

He briefly wonders if Virus and Trip are a good idea. This is before he realizes that if that was a good idea, sending Blue to live in Hell and giving him the keys to his shop would also be a decent plan.

It looks like he's stuck with Blue for the time being, and it makes him a little sad that he's the best option. Blue deserves more. He's never been inherently a bad person, not really; circumstance and loneliness have just screwed him up a little too much. He had (and does- Mizuki feels kind of crappy assuming Blue's story is finished already) so much potential, and just never really got the opportunity to use it.

He can do it, though. Blue's nothing if not stubborn, and he'll pull through. He'll find a way to get through all this crushing bullshit and make his own path.

Getting to his apartment with an armful of fluffy teenager one hell of an adventure, but Mizuki makes it. He's glad it's so late that no one sees them, because this would be kind of difficult to explain to his neighbors.

Also, he's not sure about the whole legality-of-harboring-a-recently-found-missing-teenager issue. That's going to be a bitch to work out.

Mizuki fumbles in his hoodie pocket for the keys, trying to move gently and not wake Blue. The problem is, he's got no clue where the keys are, and this is rapidly frustrating him, so it's not so much gentle fumbling as rabid snatching at random corners of the pocket and cursing himself for putting so much damn stuff in it. There's a moment of blind panic when he thinks he might not have grabbed them, because he could probably pick the lock if he tried but he's not sure that's a particular task that's going to work out at this moment.

Then he realizes they were just in his jeans pocket.

Mizuki winces. He's supposed to be a responsible adult, damnit, and forgetting where the keys are isn't exactly proving how grown-up he is. This is one area of his life where trying doesn't count for anything at all, but he still seems to be trying to bullshit his way out. He's rather impressed, actually, by his single-minded dedication to retaining his dignity while doing things that are most certainly not dignified in the least and kind of the opposite.

Bonus points if he does it while carrying a teenager bridal-style, but opportunities for this are few and far between.

Somehow, he manages to get the door open. The only issue is that he was expecting it to stick, and so it slams into the wall forcefully and Mizuki starts muttering swearwords under his breath, hoping Blue won't have woken up. He understands that new surrounding can be incredibly disorienting, and he'll have to be there for Blue when he wakes up, but he is hoping that this event won't be at 3 AM, and hopefully after Mizuki's had something to eat besides the energy bar he grabbed on his way out. He's going to have to actually be fully conscious, too, and not running solely on nerves and worry.

He's going to be doing a lot of that, actually. Being there for Blue. But now that he thinks of it, he'll probably become close friends with adrenaline as an energy source in the coming months.

The door to the spare room isn't open, which would normally annoy Mizuki, but right now he's just glad for his forgetfulness. Usually, he likes to keep it closed so that bugs and crap won't fly in, but he can only imagine how pissed he would be if he had to wrestle with yet another door one-handed.

He tries to get Blue in the bed gently, but it hasn't been used in forever and he's trying to untuck the sheets when Blue starts making little pissy noises in his sleep and shifting around slightly. Yet again, Mizuki is seized by the urge to start cursing, but he doubts the addition of sound would help him keep Blue asleep. Instead, he just gives up on his quest to actually get Blue in the bed, and just lays him down on the comforter, ignoring how the slight headway he'd made on the sheets has rucked them up and made them kind of lumpy and weird.

He considers taking off Blue's jacket and shoes, but he's pretty sure that wherever Blue has been, it's not a place that will have taught him that touch is a warm and fuzzy thing. Mizuki, however middle-class and normal his childhood was, is not naïve enough to assume Blue was having a fun time during his little escapade. Rather than attempting anything nearing unnecessary touch, he heads into the hallway to find a decent blanket, and throws it on top of Blue's slowly settling form when he reenters the room.

He remembers vaguely that Blue has always had a thing about the lights being on while he slept. Back when Aoba had been into research and book learning, he'd learned that lights made it difficult to sleep because your body was tricked into thinking it was daytime, and so sleep with the lights on was nigh impossible. Blue, of course, had chosen to bring this up every time Mizuki stayed the night pre-accident, not realizing that the sleep wasn't actually an integral part of the sleepover experience, and had turned the lights off for them.

It had seemed annoying at the time, seeing as one of them would have to get up to turn the lights back on every time Blue did it, but now it feels like a reminder that once upon a time, Blue was still young and helpful, and really did just want them to have a good night's sleep. Even if it was more than eight years ago, and he'd been a nine-year-old and only nice to them because he didn't know any other way, it seems hopeful, and maybe Mizuki is too tired to be making that kind of metaphor, but just in case, he turns off the light before closing the door.

He thinks he hears a soft sigh as he leaves, but it could just as easily be his imagination.

**  
**


	2. Morning After (But Not in a Gay Way)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's totally in a gay way

Morning comes bright, early, and too damn fast.

Mizuki thanks whatever god is out there that it's a Monday, because he has too much bullshit to deal with without going into work and being made to tattoo approximately forty more dolphins on people he doesn't know and probably doesn't want to. The fact remains, though, that he does have to get up eventually, and this is a fact that he hates with all his being.

Even if it is a day off, he apparently forgot to turn his alarm off, and it's screeching in his ear with all the fury of a thousand angry gorillas.

He fumbles wildly for the snooze button, thinking maybe he can just pretend this never happened and go back to sleep, but then he realizes that the alarm might have woken Blue up, too. This, in turn, hits him like a ton of bricks when he remembers that Blue is, in fact, a thing that still exists. A thing he still needs to deal with and has probably not gone away overnight, no matter how hard he wishes that it would have.

He sort of feels bad for not wanting Blue here, but there's basically no way for him to gain anything from this. He doesn't think he's a selfless person, not really, but he doesn't like to entertain the thought of being selfish, either (actually, no one does). Blue was more of a heat-of-the-moment choice, something decided when it was much too late for rational thought, because he likes to think that choosing to do something like that makes him a good person, not that he was actually considering Blue's feelings and future.

He stares up at the ceiling, wondering what Blue's going to do if Mizuki doesn't keep him here. Blue is supposed to be a teenager who is figuring out his life and whining about homework, not hiding out in a near-stranger's house and recovering from whatever happened over the past few years. Mizuki feels responsible for that, almost. He should have been more accessible to Blue, been friendlier, so Blue would feel comfortable coming to him about his problems. Mizuki knows that your brother's friends aren't exactly your first choice for someone to vent to, but even so. He could have been something.

Now, he's basically nothing.

Blue's on the cusp of minor and adult, and Mizuki's certain that if CPS knew about him, they wouldn't let him stay with someone he barely knows and won't be there all day. Even if there's really nowhere for him to go, because no one's going to accept someone this messed up with this little time to be fixed, Blue's going to be ripped away from them before anyone can put up a decent defense.

Their best hope would be trying to adopt Blue, but again, with this little time before he's legal, there's really no logical option. Even if by some miracle they did manage to get permission to do that, they'd need a lawyer, and they're all broke as hell. Well, they could ask Virus and Trip, but Aoba is the only one that those two haven't tried to sleep with yet, and he's probably next in line anyway. Besides, no one really wants to associate with them.

The best choice is illegally harboring a teenage runaway and pretending he's still out there somewhere and they're all clueless. That's kind of grim.

In the meantime, he thinks the best thing he can do is just take care of Blue. He's going to need someone to talk to, and this time around maybe Mizuki will be deemed trustworthy enough. He doesn't even know what Blue's going to need, because his status as an unknown and confusing creature is something he seems to enjoy and Blue is not helping Mizuki change it. He guesses he can look up something online, but he also doubts there is a great database of information on digging trauma out of your recently rediscovered teen. The best approximation is trying to get a kid to talk about their crush or some shit, and Mizuki is secure in the belief that Blue doesn't have a crush on anyone, seeing as he probably wasn't hanging out in a dating game while he was gone.

But Blue's still a person, too, not a puzzle to be solved. He realizes that Blue's going to need space and food and all kinds of crap that normal people need, and he does understand that he can't pester him to open up all the time, but he has never been good at putting away projects.

As soon as he thinks that, he feels pretty shitty for regarding Blue as a project.

But no matter what he is, Blue probably doesn't run solely on angst and pizza the way Mizuki can, and he's going to need food at some point. Conversely, Mizuki has no clue how to make anything beyond cereal with a decent food-to-milk ratio, and that could be problematic.

Breakfast is going to be an adventure.

Internally, Mizuki is swearing up a storm and then crawling back into the blankets like the weakling he is, but he manages to gather a few scraps of willpower and force himself into the hallway, hoping Blue doesn't think it's too weird that he's still wearing the hoodie and jeans he had on last night, and didn't bother to change. The outfit is not particularly coordinated, but maybe he can pretend he just decided by chance to wear the exact same thing today and he really just has a few identical jackets just lying around. No big deal.

Then he wonders (yet again) why Blue's opinion of him is so important.

He trudges into the hall, still a little confused from just waking up and trying frantically not to stumble. However much introspection on utter bullshit he can achieve while in the safety of his own bed, all of that crumbles compared to the sheer amount of effort he needs to exert just to walk to the fucking kitchen. It also makes him much more irritable, and it continually surprises him how much he can hate everything when he doesn't even have the energy to speak.

He’s considering waking up Blue, if he isn’t awake already, but the boy in question is already in the kitchen. Blue is sitting on the counter’s edge, swinging his legs and staring hard at the microwave, but when Mizuki enters he glances up and smiles softly.

Well, not softly, really. Nothing Blue does is soft, but this is close enough.

Mizuki’s brain is still foggy from lack of sleep and his limbs are a weird kind of uncoordinated and stiff he dislikes greatly, but he attempts a wave at Blue and meanders over to the coffeemaker. Normally, Mizuki hates coffee, but he doesn’t wake up on his own easily and he’s desperate. It’s sort of a deviation from his morning routine, but whatever. He isn’t used to staying up until 3 and carrying a teenager bridal-style into his apartment, either, so maybe it’s just a day of firsts.

Blue watches silently while Mizuki fumbles around the kitchen, trying not to drop anything vital because he is impressive and adult-like and setting a great example for Blue. Or at least, he’s supposed to be. But if he knocks over the coffee can three or more times, it’s not going on his permanent record.

Blue’s silence is a little eerie, but Mizuki can’t bring himself to care that much. He feels like a lot of the things Blue’s done in the past- he glances at the wall clock for an accurate estimate- five or so hours aren’t exactly soothing, so this isn’t that big a deal. In theory, teenagers aren’t supposed to be dead quiet and motionless while you try to get the goddamn coffee filter to open up properly, but Blue’s not exactly normal in any respect, so this is the least of his worries. At least he’s safe and has access to food and heating and shit, and these are the priorities.

Mizuki has concluded that the silence isn’t a big deal at all, but it’s still making him a little uncomfortable, so he decides that filling it up with mundane bullshit is a totally acceptable choice.

“So, did you sleep okay?” he asks, muttering a curse as he scrapes his hand while trying to open the coffee can. This is the true spawn of Satan, he thinks.

He can’t see Blue all that well, but out of the corner of his eye he sees blue hair shift and assumes he’s shrugging. “Fine, I guess.”

Mizuki waits.

Blue doesn’t do anything, and Mizuki continues on with his crusade, finally managing to get the lid off. He figures if Blue doesn’t want to talk, he won’t talk, and that’s it. But he also needs to remember that he doesn’t know this Blue very well, and that keeps getting in the way.

Whatever. If Blue wants to say something, he will, and Mizuki nods to himself. He’s not going to be pushy. He’s going to be the cool parent.

Well, not parent. Foster parent.

Not even foster parent, though. Brother’s friend who happened to pick Blue up and is now his roommate for who knows how long.

That works too, he guesses.

Trying again for some form of icebreaking (that will fail, but hey), Mizuki ventures into the wilderness that is conversation with Blue yet again with a feeble, “so, are you okay with cereal?”

He turns to see Blue frowning, and asking “you mean for breakfast? Or in general?”

Mizuki tries to laugh, but it’s more of a hopeless snort. “For breakfast, asshole.”

He feels kind of bad for swearing at him, but Blue just shrugs. “Yeah. It’s fine. I don’t have anything against cereal, really.”

“Why would you?”

Mizuki’s not sure why they’re pursuing this line of conversation, but he’s too tired to question it, and he keeps fumbling with the coffee.

Blue scoffs. “Don’t be racist. You don’t know what some people have been through.”

“Cereal trauma isn’t a race.”

“There you go again, you racist fuck.”

Mizuki lets out a bark of laughter, before realizing that he’s ruining his Responsible Adult image. “Don’t swear.”

“I do what I want, dickface.”

Mizuki sighs, realizing that both Blue’s purity and his own dignity are completely unsalvageable, and turns back to the coffee machine. He’s managed to make some kind of blackish sludge that looks semi-drinkable, and that seems good enough.

“But seriously. Cereal?” Mizuki asks again.

Blue nods. “Yeah, okay,” he says, and hums quietly. He doesn’t offer anything beyond that, but Mizuki is satisfied with what he’s gotten out of him.

Mizuki doesn’t have anything interesting, just crappy store-brand Cheerio ripoffs, but he feels like Blue’s not going to care that much. Blue may be many things, but he isn’t prissy, and Mizuki kind of likes that. Blue is much tougher than he’d expected, even if he did fall asleep in the car. And he’s kind of adorable, but that’s only because Mizuki spent so much time around him when he was, like, nine. It’s a fairly normal reaction.

Yeah, he’s just going to keep telling himself that.


End file.
